Twilights Requiem
by Real Eyes Realize Real Lies
Summary: (the story isn't finished, but its being updated frequently) Its been 10 generations since Juste had silenced Dracula, and he still had not returned. Now, however, it seems the family name has gone corrupt.
1. The Prelude to Darkness

Bear with me here.this is just the Prologue, and I felt this hits the mark quite well.leaving you waiting, and hopefully, with you wanting to know what happens next.  
  
Prelude to Darkness  
  
The hiss of burning wood echoed throughout the manor, smoke bellowing out of the cracks between its massive stained glass windows. As each plume rose to the sky, it took on the texture of lint, the cold glow of moonlight thickening its body and the flakes of charred wood giving it an extra degree of shape. As the fire burned, the smoke flung its shadow over the hollow streets below, remaining in that condition only for a moment as people started to flee from their houses, eluding each other as they hurdled themselves towards the building.  
  
The people stared in bewilderment, almost as if they had never seen such a sight as a trickle of flame, mouthed drawn open, eyes narrowing together, and the flinching of a person as they wandered to close to the inferno. Sirens trumpeted through the streets, though were pacified by the chatter that abrupt almost in an instance from the people, as police tried to hush them, and keep them at bay from the blaze, and the sounds of a screaming child from within the building.  
  
That's when it happened. When things seemed to be at least fairly average with a building on fire. Though the long pause of unexpected silence did seem a bit out of place, it was the scream piercing from the orifices of the building that truly caught the attention of everyone. The sound of it was immense, cutting off the noise of the streets, and muffling the sound of the fire, and even then it only seemed to augment until it reached its crest, and the sounds of mixed emotions from panicked beings repossessed the air. 


	2. The Composition of Arrest

(this chapter isn't done yet, though it will be finished. I'm only putting this up here in case anyone has any ideas for me to throw in, or any ideas  
of change for this.)  
  
Composition of Arrest  
  
Almost four years had passed, and the walls were still there. Thick walls of off-white cloth, progressively becoming more and more stained as their captives became more and more ideal. The room was completely square and brightly lit, a solitary light, suspended on its high ceiling of fluff by a thick, bronze colored wire. The other non-living thing in the room was a large, uplifted, flat chunk of the material of the walls, blanketed with a light blue quilt. It was what the attendants had called their beds, and it was next to this that the denizen of the cell rested.  
  
Her hair was bedraggled, and was a visible, radiant gold, glowing in light overhead. It twisted and entwined around her head and neck, and touched the borders of her shoulders. The flesh of her body was pale, only having the uniform gleam of a light bulb to enhance her complexion, though her lips remained full, a natural blood red color. Even though she was sitting prone, it was easy to see that she was of at least average height, due to her limbs having a lanky appearance to them. Her body, a container for a look of depression, was distinct, even the curves of her body seemed dejected. Though beneath her golden locks, a pair of dark forest green eyes were set, almost eclipsed by a look of hope, the only that could be found on her wretched body.  
  
Time dragged on like normal, silence the only echo, which coursed through the padded dungeon. The serenity of the room was almost deafening, and the sound of a pitiful click was easily audible, as it reverberated into the girl's ears. Her eyes blinked, and moved to a section of the wall with the outline of a door, which sluggishly opened, a flood of a greater light invading the room. The silhouette of a person holding a clipboard became visible, and slowly entered the room, the bleaker light converging over him, causing his cloak to recede.  
  
The man looked to be in his mid thirties, and he stared at the girl, moving his lips in away that his mustachios twiddled about. "Cylia Belmont, age seventeen, correct?" The girl blinked at him, and did nothing more, her face twisted with sorrow. "Well then, not responding isn't going to get you out of here.is it?" The voice was almost mocking, the mans face holding a childish tone to it. The girl blinked at him again, then united her hands to her face, soft sobbing resonating from beneath.  
  
"Come now," spoke the man in a heartfelt timbre, "cryin' isn't going to get you anywhere. Listen, I'm not here to give you any of that crap about your story. I'm here to investigate a couple of crimes that seemed to be fairly similar to your "case". In other words, I have permission to take you out of here, though you have to agree to answer some questions."  
  
The mournful crying seemed to stop almost immediately at the words that suggested freedom, and the girl said to be Cylia raised her head to the air, gazing at the man in front of her, dressed in an oddly formal, black tuxedo, with his short hair to match. "W-what did you say?" she stammered, almost unable to get the words to form from her mouth. The man in front of her raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Come now, you heard what I said. Don't be coy." spoke the man, his voice almost rough and harsh on the edges. He raises the eyebrow in a serious look, then broke off into a smile. The girl separated her lips again to speak, but the man cut her off. "You only need to answer, yes, or no."  
  
Is this man serious? Can he actually be telling the truth? Could I be freed from this torment? "." she spoke, though he nodded her head to the man, who in turn, nodded back, another smile spreading across his face.  
  
"Now then, stand up, and." he glanced around the room momentarily, appearing to think in the pause between his words, "gather your things." He reached an arm outward and pointed to the blanket across enveloping the bed, causing the girl to jump at the abrupt movements. The man chuckled casually to the girl's actions, and pardoned himself with a shake of his head. "By the way, my name is Bain Acardul." He held his arm out, though he moved it out languidly, watching the figure before him.  
  
Cylia gawked at the hand, and backed away timidly. A small sweat broke out on her face, though from excitement more then fear. She twisted her face upwards and looked at the man, and nodded slowly. Pressing her tear stained hands on the ground, she lifted herself to her feet, recomposing herself, hands brushing against the classic 'white T-shirt with straps attaching them to equally white pants' uniform that seemed to be popular amongst asylums. Trudging forth, she extended a stiff arm to the man, her hair covering her eyes which seemed to either smile in their own way, or cringe in the same manner.  
  
A devilish grin spread across the man known as Bain's face as he gripped a hold of the girl's hand and fluttered their hands about, then let go, turning back to the one way door. "This way please Miss. Belmont." He spoke as he walked out of the door, leaving Cylia behind in the room, exit still there.  
  
He's not kidding.this is amazing. The girl quickly followed suit behind the man, but then halted, and sprinted to the bed where she grappled the quilt, folding it hastily into her arms, then fled out the door. She blinked harshly as she left the room, the luminescence of the bulbs in the room blinding her until her eyes readjusted. Stammering, she looked about down the long corridors to her left and to her right, each filled with many doors of the same, material, a bland, gray steel. Spotting Bain turning around a corner, she hurriedly scuttled off after him, her gait awkward do to never really having the chance to run in years.  
  
As she rounded the corner, her body jerked forwards, and was pulled backwards, by a strong arm around her shoulder. The momentum caused her to spin around to face a large, bulky man, his face rather pudgy. He glared at her, his blue eyes seething with anger. "What're you doin' out 'ere! Ya supposed to be in ya cell till suppa time!" The girl winced, not only from the guard yelling at her, but also for spitting as he did so. The man tightened his grip, and the girl fell silent, not even whimpering.  
  
"What do you think you're doing sir?" said a familiar voice from behind the man, he rotated his body about, dragging along the girl with him, to reveal Bain. He stood there tapping his foot impatiently without other emotion. "That girl is to come with me." His voice however, showed a bit more emotion, mainly the ones of frustration.  
  
The bulky man looked down at the man, bearing his teeth at him in a snarl. "This filly ain't to be going anywhere! 'Oo do you think you are in the first place, tryin' to boss meh around!" Bain, instead of replying stared into the other man's eyes, making them bore deep into his own, and soon the man blinked and nodded. "Oh yeah! Now I's remember.she's is supposed to go with you.yes." The mans voice rang out with a sound of innocence and stupidity.  
  
Bain nodded, and replied sharply, "Yes, she is.now would you mind letting go of her. I'm sure she doesn't appreci---"  
  
"I don't." interrupted Cylia aptly, her eyes imitating the anger that the bulky man had shown before. At her words, the man released his grasp of her shoulder, and nodded, giving out an apology and pointing out the way to the exit for the pair.  
  
Walking slower, Bain took Cylia by the arm and quickly guided her towards the staircase, its décor matching the rest of the hollow, nearly empty hallways. As Cylia walked to them, she gasped, never having been this far away from her room since she arrived at the facility. She grasped hold of the quilt tightly in one arm, and seized hold of the cold metal railing. The touch startled her, as everything was always the same, bland temperature, from the air to the walls. She began to close her eyes in the presence of something new, but was dragged onwards, down the steps, each one giving out a clear, clanging noise.  
  
Downwards the trekked, down three flights of stairs before coming to a pause before a large set of double doors. The pause was only brief, but it lasted an eternity in the eyes of Cylia, and after that eternity was over with, the doors slowly slid apart from each other, revealing a room almost unreal to her. It was filled with a large, red stained, oaken grandfather clock, dingy red carpeting, and the walls were covered with tapered pictures of gardens, cities, and rivers. Cylia let out another gasp as she saw what she desired. A revolving glass door, showing a small parking lot filled with automobiles, all surrounded by numerous forest, a sight she hadn't seen in years.  
  
"This way please Miss. Belmont. Your questioning awaits." Cylia had almost forgotten that Bain was ever there, her thoughts escaping her. "First, however, we will have to get you into some decent clothing, and get you set up before we can have you working on your own." The words blew past her, she hadn't heard them. Her feet started without her, moving mechanically towards the doorway.  
  
There were people in the room as well, she had noticed, but they paid no heed to her, glancing almost right through her as they walked past, moving through sets of doors and to magazine racks. Bain followed after her movements in a more animated way, and quickly took the lead. When they reached the doors, they still were unnoticed, even by the door. They sat there, dwelling in their normal position, closed. Bain still headed towards them, now dragging Cylia with her, walking straight into the doors. And through them. It was if the door was never there.  
  
The thought process's in Cylia's mind was overwhelming, telling her that what had happen shouldn't be. Though she thought against asking, she did anyway. "W-what.just happened there Bain, Sir?" She stumbled over her own words, as well as some loose gravel as the traveled onwards throughout the parking lot.  
  
"Well, technology has improved since you were put in there. Some doors are just holograms.pictures to make you think they are there." His voice was sure, and his gaze never left whatever he was looking at.  
  
"Really." as the only coherent thing she could think to say, her eyes glancing over the ground, the hard, sun warmed ground, and the treetops, an actual color. Her mind was boggling at all the life, about her, all the pleasant sounds, mostly made by a chirping bird, which echoed throughout the world, and even over the lifelessness of the ground, which was so much different then her life in the asylum.  
  
The sunlight, which sifted through the treetops, occasionally arced down and perforated Cylia's eyes, causing her to squint, momentarily blinded, but Bain guided her along a mostly straight path with an occasional turn. Eventually they stopped, and Cylia's eyes bounded onto a vehicle of solid black in front of her, matching Bain's outfit. "And here we are," he spoke, monotonously, the aspect every day to him. He reached forward and clasped the handle of the door, bowing slightly, arm arched outward, "After you Miss. Belmont."  
  
Cylia nodded, and staggered forward, and sat slowly into the seat of black leather, another feeling she hadn't the honor to have, and she stared to the side, as the door slowly collapsed on her with a clang. She blinked as Bain walked around the front of the car, and opened up his side, casually sliding into his own seat. Reaching into his pockets, he withdrew a set of keys, placing them in the ignition. With his left arm he reached over to his side, and took a hold of a leather strap, guiding it to his other side, and placing it into a holder. "Buckle up please, would you Miss. Belmont? Don't want you getting hurt now."  
  
The girl complied, and mimicked the mans actions, guiding her belt into the clasp next to her seat. She let out an airy sigh of relief and squinted back to the gloomy building, wishing it a horrible farewell in her mind. "What are we doing now Mr. Acardul?" He voice held something she hadn't had in years, a speck of happiness. It wasn't much, but she cherished it immensely.  
  
The man twisted his wrist, and the squealing of the motor starting up surged through the car, shocking the girl once again. It only took one try, and the car was humming away as he pulled the stick shift downwards, glancing carefully behind himself. "As I said before, we'll first get you some decent garments, and then we'll get you more suited up for the world. After that, I'll take you in for your questioning, and hear what you have to say."  
  
"Suited.up?" The girl replied, her face drawn into a baffled expression. She blinked her eyes before looking back to Bain for an answer, her eyes lit up beneath tangled hair. There was a long pause before she got an answer, though she didn't mind. The view on the road was nothing spectacular for someone who had spent their lives being able to see it, but it was just short of astonishing to her. She had seen it before, on her way up, the unpleasant memories.  
  
Before the thoughts could gain control of her mind however, they were cut off by Bain's friendly voice. "Well, we just can't have you going out without having anything to live with." he said, and then spoke again with a more diabolical voice, though his face was set with a smile, "can we?" His smile widened as he twisted the steering wheel around, driving the car around a turn, "Of course we can't.it just wouldn't make any sense."  
  
"Alright." uttered in a dream like trance. Her eyes were following the scene moving by outside the window. She didn't pay much attention to the close up, fast appearing fast disappearing parts, but instead her eyes were touching the further reaches of the horizon, staring at the mountains, majestic and blue in the far distances. It feels so good to finally be free. Oh so good. I'm glad things are back to normal. Her mind drifted along the treetops and the mountain rims, until the scenery changed, completely unaware that Bain was speaking to her.  
  
".and that's about all that happened importantly in the world since you were put into that asylum." Finished Bain, blinking ahead at the road, and then glancing to his side a moment, checking over Cylia. "We need to stop somewhere so you can tidy up.you don't look so well."  
  
Cylia glanced over herself, understanding completely. I am pretty messed up. I never realized it before, but now I suppose I have reason to. She nodded impromptu, letting him know, almost to the entirety, her thoughts, not that it wasn't apparent before. "Thank you." she whispered aloud, not directing it towards anyone.  
  
"What was that?" questioned Bain, overhearing her tranquil voice. He glanced down over her once more, and she repeated herself, adding no words, nor taking any away, just speaking with more intensity. "For what, may I ask?" He knew the answer, but he didn't care. It was his job to subdue any information out of her as possible.  
  
"For getting me out of there." Her voice was serene, but none the less, emotionless. It was as if she became lifeless again, though her eyes betrayed that thought. She leaned forwards to the front window, relaxing on crossed arms. The man said something again, but she was dazed once more, ignoring it.  
  
"I said that you don't owe your thanks to me. It was a friend who wanted you out. I'm just doing as ordered." Friendly and intoxicating was his voice, Cylia had almost missed it again, though managed not to bumble the second time. "You ought to save your thanks for him."  
  
"Somebody else wanted me out?" she mused out loud. "Who would want me out.as far as anyone is concerned, I'm completely loony." And that's the truth.. she thought. Everyone thinks I'm mad. Everyone.  
  
The mans voice broke her thoughts again, this time his voice sounding just like a thought to, coming from the back of her mind. "I'm not supposed to tell you who it was, but you'll find out eventually." At first she didn't realize that it was in fact a voice. It had been recognized as a thought, almost as if she had been expecting it to be. She snapped to attention and then looked back at Bain and nodded her head. The least she could do was at least respond.  
  
After that, a wave of fatigue took a seizing grip over her, and she couldn't find a way to fight back, but to give in. "Do you mind." she yawned, "if I took a little nap." Her face contorted underneath her locks of tangled hair, but she still looked halfway decent. She leaned back without answer, and briskly fell to sleep, the sounds of the man responding positively drowned out by the silence of slumber.  
  
hr  
  
The world was bleak, lifeless walls covered in emptiness surrounded her. She walked onwards, feet still able to press against ground that wasn't there. Statues appeared, forming themselves from the walls about her. A tall, grim man in draped in a cloak with a long pole with a huge object attached to the end, a man with no face, and then the face of a girl, the face of an older girl, and then the face of herself, and a statue of a man kneeling down next to a large whip. After appearing, each of these faded out of existence, neither combining back with the wall, or ceasing to exist. They just, left existence. A door appears in front of her, and she reaches for it. The door doesn't do anything fancy, just as doors ought to. She twists the handle and she strides into a room much different then the previous one. This one is covered in antique décor. A large, tarnished brass chandelier hangs from overhead, illuminating the rooms with its torpor candles of solid white. The floor is carpeted with a regal, red velvet, trimmed around the edges in gold, and stitched together with purple thread in elaborate designs. A booth sits in the middle of the room, accessible to both sides. It is closed in oaken walls, and is seperated in the middle by another piece of wood. In this particular piece there is a grate, allowing a barely visible image of what is on the other side, and allowing sound to pass through. The girl calls out, asking if anyone is there, and a voice replies sharply, in a dark, but friendly tone telling her to sit in the booth. She complies, and walks in. As she does so a purple and gold curtain slides across the back, closing her in. Now what, she asks. Ah, my dear. I'm glad you could make it. Are you happy? The voice confuses her, everything to her seems to be happing monotonously, in an almost mechanical way. She responds though, saying she is glad to be somewhere new, but that she is confused. The voice doesn't respond, so she asks if they left. It replies back, saying that they are there. A face appears behind the mesh grate of the wall, a pair of silver eyes the only thing truly visible. I haven't left you my dear. I was merely getting myself ready. The girl finds it hard to move as the voice speaks, and manages to overcome the feeling when it stops. Getting ready for what? She asks. You'll see, it will be impossible for you to miss, I promise you. The girl asks the name of the person she is speaking to, though it only tells her that it is a friend. They continue talking, though about things completely irrelevant to life. Things like how clear the water seems on a sunny day, and how comfortable the chairs they are sitting in are. After a while, the voice speaks again. I'm afraid its time for you to leave now, perhaps we will talk again later. In fact, I know we will. The girl nods her head and pulls the curtain away, stepping out of the booth. 


End file.
